


It Takes A Village

by copyninken



Category: Naruto
Genre: Gen, Gratuitous Swearing, Mutual Pining, a lot of rubbish, emotions are rough, fraandships are vital, hey! socio-political economics are fun!, how did anyone trust these berks to create a world system?, madara is rougher, oh....that's why, slow-burn, why don't they kiss already?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2019-05-14 18:33:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14774967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/copyninken/pseuds/copyninken
Summary: Founders era nonsense about building a village, the rise and fall of one fool named Madara Uchiha (falls in love - har har), and some lethargic writing about health insurance, unions, and cultural peculiarities.





	1. Tobirama's Very Long Day

Tobirama is getting annoyed.

To be a bit more precise he is getting annoyed at the idea of being annoyed, and he needs to halt this train of thought before it develops into an increasingly familiar headache. For the last few months, Tobirama has noticed a discouraging increase in a trend of morning headaches and he unfortunately does not see the trajectory changing for the better any time soon.

It is of course a great deal of work to establish the foundations of what will hopefully be a prosperous and peaceful village, and an intense responsibility to create a sustainable structure that will have longevity. He knows this and is respectfully mindful of his position so does not begrudge the workload or lack of sleep that cause these tense headaches, not at all. What he does begrudge, and rightly so he thinks, is the cause of the annoyances that lend to them — namely, those with whom he has to work.

He grunts as he pushes his chair back and stands with his hands on the table. A quick stretch of the back and neck, popping his still sleep addled bones, he turns to fix himself a simple breakfast. Tobirama’s mind idly flips through the items on his mornings agenda as he gathers a few things to warm up from his icebox. He is aware that the morning meeting may take a short while longer than usual and has already accounted for that when planning his day. The daily gathering of the founders and current department heads to simply go over where they stood and to touch base was helpful in keeping deadlines and schedules adjustable. Though they were repetitive and usually without note, Tobirama knows that a few departments require additional time for their projects and will likely be bringing it up today.

Tobirama gathers some pickles as his miso soup continues to cook, the rice and fish having been warmed enough for his likings. He muses about how long the deadlines may be extended for. It is of no real consequence to him, as the additional time may even allow him to indulge in some personal research and rest. There were a few interesting personal projects he had been fiddling around with and having some space clear up in his timetable would allow for more engaged study.

He lays out two settings at the table, pushing his already used cup from earlier to the side. Two small dishes, a set of bowls, chopsticks and an extra cup, he also puts out a fresh pot of tea for himself, and a pitcher of water that could remain. He politely sets out the second place most days for his cousin Touka, who occasionally woke in time to join him, but usually only managed to just barely scarf down a quick meal before scurrying to the hokage tower — late, as usual. He knows she is a late riser from childhood, just as he himself always woke later than Hashirama. The main difference here being that he leaves a place-setting for whoever came next, unlike the rest of his family. He quietly plates and eats his breakfast as he continues to think of what needs to be done.

The scrolls which he needs for his paperwork are in his pockets, and he is well prepared for the few meetings he has scheduled. It promises to be a busy day as usual, only slightly different as he had agreed to lunch with his brother and sister-in-law, something that did not happen as often as he would like due to scheduling conflicts. The three of them often dined together, but with additional family and companions — it will be nice to spend some more private time with just the two.

He chews thoughtfully as he finishes his meal and the dregs of his tea, patting his pocket and remembering the small parcel of frosted sweets he had picked up for Mito. He considers for a moment leaving the sweets for Touka, but decides against it. The last thing that banshee needs in her morning rush is an additional sugar boost. Tobirama will not be responsible for a pent up and sugar-loaded menace.

As he puts away his washed dishes and grabs the few things he needs to take with him to work, he decides that he will take the longer but more interesting route to the tower since he has the additional time this morning. It will relax him, he thinks, and keep the pending headache at bay for a short while longer.

Winding through the morning streets, nodding at the few vendors and neighbours that he makes eye-contact with, Tobirama thinks of how wonderful — and insane — a dream the village truly was. It could be such a vibrant and thriving place, become home to many rather than merely a place to live. His sharp sense of smell thoroughly enjoys the various scents of teas and breakfast foods that mingle and permeate the marketplace, and the sweet smell of the fresh fruits the vendors already had set up. His ears listen to the buzz of conversation, picking out snatches of chatter and laughter, and more than one source of mild bickering. Merely a year ago this had been empty land with little more than the beginnings of fledgling structures and houses.

Really, it is like a maddened fever dream that they have come this far. Mentally taxing, and quite draining in its own way, the work that has gone into bringing the village to the point at which it now finds itself is rewarding. One year ago he would never have thought himself able to stop and literally smell the flowers on his daily path, now here he was doing precisely just that. Forget the allergies, a small amount of pollen irritation is well worth the poetic and flowery indulgence. Yes, Tobirama did find himself amusing — though often only privately so. A shame for everyone else, he believes. He sniffs at the flower bunches once more before nodding at the vendor and continuing on his way.

It is the endless hard work that everyone has been putting in — from those overseeing the project, down to those executing the plans, that has created this village complete with it’s growing sense of atmosphere and feeling of home. Tobirama is hard-pressed to think of anyone who has not been giving it their all, albeit in their own way. Each civilian and shinobi has worked through difficult conditions to assist in building this village and should be proud to consider themselves a founder, though he knows that socially and politically, founder is a term reserved for a select few.

Tobirama draws in a sighing breath. It is these latter founders who have been the cause, in part at least, of his recent spate of headaches, and suddenly as if by magic or summoning through thought, Tobirama finds his ears perking up to the voice of his colleague and new friend.

“Good morning, Tobes! Interest you in a nutritious and delicious breakfast on the go?” Izuna cheerily offers as he claps Tobirama on the back and thrusts a grubby half-melted candy-bar in his face.

“Izuna. I’ve already eaten, thanks. To the tower?” Tobirama replies genially as he gestures in question towards the town centre with his chin.

Tobirama is fond of Izuna. That he called him Tobes and is still breathing is a testament to that. The man had been a formidable enemy on the battlefield, and Tobirama has come to respect him as an opponent. It had been a difficult transition to move from mortal-enemies-who-are-sworn-to-hurt-each-other to co-founders, co-workers, and eventual friends, but Tobirama is glad that they both had made the effort. The two of them are less heated and emotional than their brothers in certain respects, and Izuna has quickly proven himself to be as efficient and well-matched to Tobirama’ skills as a founder as he had been as a battle opponent.

They quickly fall into an easy step as they stroll through one of the bustling market streets, Izuna casually stopping to touch a great deal of the fares on display and hum approvingly or make comments to the vendors. As usual, Tobirama admires the amiable nonchalance with which Izuna approaches everyone, seeming to make men and women smile as his friendly, flirtatiously smooth personality shone through his interactions. It is a quality that Tobirama approves of, finding it useful and less grating than other personality types he could name. He knows to be cautious though, as Izuna is most definitely not above using his hypnotic abilities to get his own way. Tobirama is well aware that Izuna’s charm is in part a deception, a mask that he puts on and thus is inherently untrustworthy. Friends they might be, but Tobirama knows that Izuna is still the same little shit he has always been underneath it all. He just counts himself lucky that these days his friend’s mischievously tricky nature manifests itself in snarky comments and humdrum pranks rather than cunning moves and jutsus that could wound or potentially kill him.

“So tell me, how much do you want to bet that Madara makes the medical department head cry within 30 minutes this morning?” Izuna asks as he (grossly) licks his fingers clean of the candy remains.

“Tch. Half an hour? Your brother is getting soft and complacent then” Tobirama retorts. “I think Hashirama will have them in tears of frustration before Madara manages.” He is not sure why he threw Hashirama’s name out as a sacrifice, only that he feels like insulting the older Uchiha by any means necessary. Even if it means pointing out his own beloved brothers very real and accurate flaws.

“Fair point, well made.” Izuna consents with an acquiescent nod of his head. “Our beloved hokage-sama does seem to be a bit… patronizingly maddening when it comes to the hospital stuff. He can be a bit much to take in the morning with his earnest and endless questions.”

Izuna wrinkles his nose as he recalls Hashirama’s disgusting display a few weeks ago when he had begun to stroke the academic advisors arms in what he must have imagined was a soothing manner, questioning if what he had requested was too much work to handle. His big watery doe-eyes had been full of concern and Izuna had watched with rapt interest. The alarming petting received under the giant, gentle hands of Hashirama had only served to make the advisor more unhinged and frantic than usual, as he batted him away and called him a ‘touch-pervert’.

He snickers. Izuna knows that sometimes the source of his amusement is also the cause of his friend’s pain. Madara was, after all, academic advisor along with Tobirama - and Hashirama had set them up for a doozy of a day with his gentle and creepily affectionate questions that morning. There are few pleasures Izuna has as great in his life as watching his older brother attempt to navigate ‘civilized’ society under a spotlight.

Izuna’s snickering laughter does not go unnoticed by Tobirama as he reaches out a hand to lightly slap the slightly older man upside the back of his head. Tobirama pettily hopes that he somehow spoils the ponytail Izuna wore. He knows that vanity is one of the Uchiha brothers’ many failings, and has no problems in enthusiastically taking advantage of that weakness.

“Don’t laugh, you fool.” Tobirama chides as Izuna grunts and rubs the back of his head in a failed attempt to fix his hair - he is inwardly pleased with the resulting mess. “Pissing off the head of the medical department just means your brother will be even more angry at work than usual, and you have the pleasure of his company alone for lunch today.”

“Fuck, you’re right. Best behaviour everyone!” Izuna calls out to his pretend-audience.

It is nice to pass the morning walk engaging in an easy banter with the other man, and it effectively distracts Tobirama along with the vibrant atmosphere of a functioning village enough so that his headache and earlier morning annoyance are all but forgotten by the time they reach the tower. They agree to take a quick break together after the morning meeting to discuss who, if either of them, could be said to have won their small wager and decide that whomever is found to have lost would have to pay for a mid-morning treat. Tobirama has already settled on some expensive tea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have zero idea what I am doing...but if you like this, I have about 6 more chapters written and a lot of pointless noise in my head. 
> 
> Pages and pages of notes. 
> 
> I also may give up immediately, because you know, whatever.


	2. Best Worst Friends

Dreams of delicious teas and abusing Izuna’s wallet are becoming a fond memory, Tobirama thinks in passing about twenty minutes later as he watches the older Uchiha knock his chair over.

“— whether they have finished or not! How is that so difficult for you to fucking understand?” Madara seethes, slamming a hand down on the table for added effect and dramatics, Tobirama is sure. “You knew that we were waiting on that report before we could start looking into actually finding the right people and negotiating terms, so why couldn’t you have just hurried the fuck up instead of sitting on your fat asses and being a bunch of absolute —”

“Madara! Now, now.” Hashirama simpers indulgently. “They only need two additional weeks! If we want to get it done properly we must be certain of all of the details. You yourself are always saying the details are important. Two weeks is not that long — hey! You could help me with some planning in your free time now!” Within the span of a few seconds, the hokage perks up as he begins to plan out some activities for him and Madara to partake in, as though there is no other work to catch up on. 

With a few more placating words and promises by Hashirama - and some abuse thrown in his face by Touka, Madara seems to settle back down, fumfering to himself as the hokage nods in wise agreement to his deep rumblings. Madara grunts out a rough apology as he rights his chair and takes a seat, seemingly soothed by Hashirama’s agreement to play lab-rat in a new fire jutsu that he is developing later. He still makes his displeasure at being inconvenienced known to the poor man at whom he had been shouting by directing an absolutely sour and threat-laden look his way. Tobirama watches, sensing that the look is not going to be a brief one as Madara melts comfortably into his seat continuing to angrily frown and glower at the sweaty man. 

The medical department head seems to shrink and wither before his eyes. That had better not be a tear Tobirama hopes, noticing a distinct shine in the Yamanaka’s eye. He tunes back into the direction of the meeting, jotting down some quick notes at changed dates and delivery schedules. He is rather pleased to see that he will indeed be able to indulge in some research, but knows that he will likely devote that additional time to tinkering with and perfecting a proposal regarding the academy’s standardized curriculum. 

Izuna surreptitiously shuffles his leg against Tobirama’s, probably to show him that he had seen the potential tear as well, and Tobirama responds with a swift kick to Izuna’s shin. A very stoic and adult reaction to the loss of a nice tea and the more-than-likely sweet, oily snack Izuna would pick knowing how much Tobirama dislikes that type of thing. The two of them have developed a mature and not-at-all-petty friendship based on mutual antagonism and respect. Noticing that Mito is looking at him a bit oddly, Tobirama gives her a perfunctory smile in response and a slight nod of his head. Perhaps she had seen their small scuffle; this would set her mind at ease. 

He makes a few further notes on some personnel changes and new work-shift schedules before bidding his goodbyes and making to take his leave with Izuna. The first few weeks of these morning meetings had dragged on in their hellos and goodbyes, most of the participants just excited to see one another in a non-combat situation. Tobirama found the whole thing a bit exhausting; he never could quite understand why people who he had seen the day before and who he was scheduled to see in a few hours all wanted to hug. Luckily, everyone else seemed to agree with him after a short period of time, and the strange half-hugs of the morning goodbyes petered out and were quickly done away with. 

It was nice that everyone was getting along as well as they were, rekindling old friendships and forging new bonds, but he can easily make do without the hugging. He gets that enough from Hashirama as it is. He sneaks a glance over his shoulder at his brother to see him and Madara with their faces close in a hushed conference. Those two had fallen back into a state of adolescent foolishness when they were allowed to pick up their friendship and tended to behave like absolute children when they had free time together. 

Large, powerful, in-control-of-a-village children. Sighing he turns back to Izuna; whatever those two are plotting it is best he does not know.

“I was thinking —” Izuna starts to say, flicking through some papers and sliding them into the different folders in his hands. If that is Izuna's idea of organizing, Tobirama despairs for his team. 

“I am shocked.” Tobirama cuts in, automatically reaching out to re-file one of the papers. Izuna will thank him later when he needs the briefing notes in the elder council meeting and does not have to struggle to track them down. Better to make Izuna’s day simpler, even though watching him struggle often gives him pleasure. Eventually it will come back to him, this small gesture. Not only because it will expedite the work process, but also because Tobirama has found that half of negotiations and contract talks end up with the most polished seeming candidate winning the bid. Rustling for papers would come off as unprofessional and unprepared. This fledgling village of theirs needs to rely on the appearance of functionality while they work on actually becoming smooth and operational.

“Thank you. Anyhow, I was thinking that I could go for something sticky and sweet.” Izuna predictably carries on. “But I know that isn’t really your style.”

Tobirama is curious that Izuna is prepared to let him off so easily, perhaps there was more good in him than he thought. He wonders if perhaps Izuna read his mind earlier and also wants a restorative cup of tea, or if it is simply the logical choice of beverage after the morning meeting. Sake would be more desirable, but appearances and productivity simply would not allow for it. 

He has observed that Izuna is more thoughtful than often given credit for. While he could be a nightmare of sharp teeth and vicious ruthlessness, he also is more than willing to compromise on small things with those he cares about. He charitably thinks of the small truces in their friendship as a tribute to the shared suffering burden of being younger siblings to slightly self-centered but well-meaning older brothers. 

Tobirama works well with Izuna, and he considers it a shame that their talents have been divided amongst the village duties. He would have made a most suitable partner, but his skills better complimented Mito’s, and thus he was essentially paired to her. The diplomat team consists of Izuna, Mito, and Hikaku - a cousin of the Uchiha brothers, and a strong utilitarian thinker that Tobirama admires. They worked with all departments and put their eyes on nearly every agreement or contract that was created, and were quite a dynamic polite and calm face to the village. With the strong and friendly presence of Hashirama at many of these meetings, Konoha had earned itself quite the fearsome and stable reputation. All three of the diplomats were made of steel teeth, sharp tongues, and manners as soft as silk. Tobirama would fear them if they were not his allies. 

Tobirama himself was considered one of the idea-men, and wound up working with the elder of the Uchiha siblings most of the time. He considered himself rather fortunate that he had this friendship with Izuna who helped him navigate the more nuanced social intricacies that he struggled with - Izuna often taking time to carefully explain and patiently teach him about what was considered a norm or social more that he did not fully understand. He knows he can be a difficult student and is grateful for Izuna’s friendship. Most of the time. 

He is torn from his musings on whether Izuna has also recently been suffering an onslaught of morning headaches when his dreams of tea are once again shattered by his companions words. 

“I’m thinking…sweet isn’t what you’ve been craving this morning, is it?” Izuna says, perhaps with a bit too much casualness in his voice for Tobirama to believe it for one second to be an unloaded remark. “No, I’m guessing you could go for something hot?”

Still on guard, Tobirama glances at him from the corner of his eye. They have almost exited the building, then it is just a question of guiding Izuna towards the tea shop at the end of the street. “Yes...” he says hesitantly, and immediately regrets the moment of weakness as he can see that it is the start of his undoing. 

“Hot and perhaps a bit on the salty side, hn?” Izuna smirks as he coyly and none too subtly changes the subject to something Tobirama has been getting overly familiar with. “Isn’t that more your thing? Something hot and sour?" he continues, allowing Tobirama to steer them into the tea house. "I mean I get that the meetings are boring but could you do me a favour and not sit there fantasizing about my brother the whole time? Seriously sad, and gross. You get a weird face. Hikaku and Mito saw it.” Izuna wrinkles his nose in mock distaste, pretending to gag slightly at the thought of anyone finding his brother appealing. Tobirama finds himself wanting to gag in self-loathing as well, so he can sympathize. 

"Buy me a pot of the house specialty, and you can gossip at me for exactly two minutes." Tobirama barters. He figures that since Izuna is going to talk about it in any case, he might as well set up some parameters. If he limits it to a few minutes, then he still would have plenty of time to quickly find out about the preparations that Izuna's team has been making for the upcoming source materials negotiations. Additional information as to how they are planning to approach the proceedings would allow him to adjust some of the information he provides. 

Tobirama knows he is considered invaluable for his ideas and analytical mind, but he is also meticulous. The diplomatic team - and most importantly Hashirama - rarely have to rely on any information other than what he provides them. Considering how thinly spread they are, he wants to do his best to make sure their work is simplified. With the tensions coming from this new Sand village, any information Izuna can slip him would only serve to smooth out both of their work. 

Izuna is smiling blithely again, dismissing him while agreeing with a conciliatory wave of his hand as he re-focuses his attention from the menu he was looking at to the elderly woman showing them to their seats. Tobirama continues, "once you've quite had your fun airing my laundry, tell me what you have planned for negotiations with Iron. Mito has been vague about the details and I would like to know." He knows he is pressing his luck with the tea, the time stipulation for gossip, and now the demand for information, but it is all done in good-nature and part of the adversarial friendship they share. 

His friend is barely listening to him but he knows his words have registered. Tobirama watches as he brightly chats with the woman, placing an order for the most expensive pot of tea. The woman laughs coquettishly at something Izuna says, and Tobirama can see that his flirtatious smile and charms have made her whole day. It is almost annoying how effortless it is for him; Izuna soon has the woman promising an assortment of snacks - on the house - for them to sample. His ease with others is a point of both jealousy and admiration he will admit to himself. Izuna and Hashirama both seem to have the inherent ability to radiate an impish and inviting magnetism; something which he and Madara seem to sorely lack. Leading to his current predicament with the ‘hot and sour’ man. 

Swiftly changing gears, Izuna turns to Tobirama - all sharp teeth and vicious ruthlessness under his smile. “So…my brother.” he begins. 

Tobirama crosses his arms and sighs. Two minutes was it?


	3. Noodles and Negotiations

Approximately three hours later, Tobirama glances up at the clock on his shared office wall. He has been working without pause on adjusting not only the information he has been asked to provide the negotiations team, but also on the proposal Izuna is set to present to one of the councils next week. After getting the information out of his friend earlier in the morning, he can see all sorts of minor tweaks and adjustments that could make Konoha appear to be the more favourable choice for the materials supplier, and wanted to make sure it was all included while still fresh in his mind.

Despite delving further into his personal life than he preferred, the morning break with Izuna had been useful, he thinks as he rubs the back of his neck, exhaling at the tension of the muscle being released. It is one of Izuna’s favourite things to do - to poke and prod at Tobirama and Madara about their ‘relationship’. His friend truly was incorrigible.

Putting his paperwork away properly and clearing the desk from his morning work, Tobirama quickly takes the packet of frosted sweets out from his desk drawer and slides them into his pocket. He sets off to Hashirama’s office where he is sure Mito already is.

The two of them are able to put on the impression of being a dignified and reserved couple, but as most who have been exposed to them will agree, they behave like teenage sweethearts more than the not-so-newlyweds they really are. Hashirama’s office is where Mito can usually be found, and Tobirama has learned the hard way to always knock.

His own office being on the same floor as the hokage’s makes for a quick trip, and Tobirama makes a conscious effort to put work at the back of his mind before knocking at his brothers door. He wants to spend this lunch break hearing about his brother’s life and Mito’s latest adventure in home decor, a respite from the endless workdays he usually has.

“Just come in!” Hashirama calls from the other side, Tobirama’s hand already turning the door handle. With a large, dopey grin on his face (and some very suspiciously mussed up hair), Hashirama stretches his long arms out, waving happily at his brother as he works out a jaw-cracking yawn that splits his face in two. Mito is sitting on the small love-seat near the window, papers strewn about in controlled disarray as she diligently begins to gather them. She smiles warmly at Tobirama as he makes his way to her, fishing out the sweets. From behind his desk, Hashirama’s audible and impolite yawn is interrupted by yet another bodily sound as his stomach gurgles menacingly.

“My apologies for being late.” Tobirama says to the room in general, “but I was able to finish your information and proposal package, Mito.” What Izuna and Mito had prepared with their team was already excellent, but Tobirama’s additions should make it logically impossible to resist for potential suppliers.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Mito says, reaching out to take Tobirama by the hand and pull him to sit with her. “I should be apologizing to you for needing further assistance. It’s just been so tricky to find the right balance between what we can show off and what we still need to be discreet about.” She sighs heavily to emphasize her frustrated point. Smiling sweetly at him like the doting elder sister she has proven herself to be, she continues holding his hand saying, “in any event Tobirama, I think his stomach is the one we both should apologize to.” She indicates her shameless looking husband, who they both catch with a finger firmly lodged in his ear.

Tobirama turns back to Mito, leaving Hashirama to his very important task. He remembers the sweets in his free hand and offers them in Mito’s direction, “Oh, for you. I got them at that new kid’s store, you know the one with the wooden toys?”

He has always been a smooth shinobi in battle, but awkward and somehow stiff and clunky in person. He knows he should have wrapped the candy in something better than the brown paper it came in, and probably have given them to her in a less graceless manner than just thrusting them at her. He adores Mito for ignoring his social inelegance as she gives a happy squeak of pleasure at her gift. She always manages to make him feel vaguely more human than he knows he comes off as being.

“Were you looking for something for Tsuna again?” she asks, unwrapping her spoils and admiring them. Tobirama knows she will not touch them before their lunch. Mito is one for order, and sweets come after the meal. “If you aren’t careful, she’ll become spoiled rotten by her uncle Tobi - you know she already thinks that you belong to her.” Mito’s lip shoots up at one end, belying her amusement at her toddler daughter’s demanding nature. Tobirama was there when Tsunade declared him her property and had allowed her to scribble her ‘ownership’ on his skin with ink. _Become_ spoiled rotten indeed.

“Tobi! That’s so nice of you!” Hashirama chimes in, moving around his desk to come investigate the sweets. “How about me? Any candy for brother?” He looks hopeful. Tobirama wants to dash his hopes.

“Maybe a gift for Tsuna. Nothing for you, anija.” Tobirama says as Hashirama visibly deflates. “Now where is this stand we’re going to?” he continues, showing no mercy or cosseting behaviour to his brother. He has Mito for that enough.

Excited to show off his find, Hashirama pulls his wife up to her feet, and her grip on Tobirama’s hand brings him along with them. “Come on, I’ll show you, it’s great! Mito and I have been there twice just this past week. Tobi, it’s so good.”

Mito places the packet and the wrappings on the desk after releasing Tobirama’s hand and sliding gracefully from Hashirama’s hold as he continues to sing the restaurants praises to his brother. She gives Tobirama a meaningful look. Tobirama is wary of meaningful looks. “An excellent quiet spot, you know.” she says, turning away to casually brush off some invisible, non-existent dust from her robes. “Very discreet”.

Tobirama winces slightly, still reeling from Izuna’s mockery this morning. “Please. Not this. Not from you as well.” Mito arches a brow at him, not quite managing to hide her amusement. He knows that she and Izuna spend half of their workday wildly speculating and theorizing about this situation with him and Madara, and he feels pity for Hikaku for working with the two shrewd foxes. Perhaps neither Mito nor Touka deserved the candy. It should have gone to Hikaku.

Hashirama looks between them as they descend the stairs into the front garden. “What are we talking about? No secrets from brother.” he tries hopefully, taking his wife’s hand once again as he leads them down the main street.

“Hn.” is all Tobirama says, walking next to his brother, not planning on discussing the topic.

“Husband?” Hashirama tries, turning his eyes to his wife, looking very much like a dog begging for a morsel of food.

“Hush, beloved husband.” Mito replies. “I want to tell Tobirama about the new paintings I ordered.”

Hashirama strains desperately, throwing his last hat into the ring. “Hokage? Guys, tell me.”

“Tobirama, they are simply divine. Won’t you come by tonight and take a look?” Mito asks him, entirely ignoring the plaintive whinge Hashirama makes at his dismissal.

“Of course”, Tobirama replies and Mito beams at him. “There is nothing I would enjoy more this evening.” And he means it. The founders are a headache to be sure, but his beloved family nonetheless.

……

“Just try it brother, I promise you will not be disappointed!” Hashirama exclaims after giving the inordinately large lunch order to the friendly waiter. He folds the menu and hands it back to the smiling teenager, the two falling back into their easy and light conversation about the restaurant and how well it has been faring.

It seems that the owner is hopeful that by the spring he will expand from this stand to a full running restaurant and Tobirama is confident that will be the case.

Tobirama is rather proud to see how seriously Hashirama takes his duties as hokage - more so than one might suspect, or even notice at a superficial level. His brother not only wields his political authority with strength and a surprisingly calm head, but he seems to understand that leading the village cannot only be a demonstration of power.

At any given time, the large and bright man could be found speaking with any citizen - shinobi or civilian, or immersed in the on-goings of the village. A very different Hashirama than the one he has seen wandering around the clan house, howling for the return of his office’s hat from his quick-legged daughter.

Hashirama seems to naturally understand that leading people and a society is not just done by political dominance, but also by example. He has thrown himself and his wife into the social ongoings of the citizenry and does it with a broad smile and honest pleasure.

It is a familiar feeling, but it took Tobirama some time to get used to encountering it in a non-battlefield situation: he is simply proud. Though it has taken time, Tobirama is getting familiar to the swell of pride that accompanies his brother’s achievements. Sipping his water and surreptitiously watching Hashirama and Mito speak to a new civilian couple that had migrated to the village nearly four months ago, Tobirama recalls the first few times the feeling had crept up on him. They had been strange and unsettling moments, he is embarrassed to admit.

On a battlefield, he was used to an arrogant and proud moment whenever he would see Hashirama take down an enemy with ease and mercy - knowing that his brother was not only a powerful man, but a gentle and caring one. When he stood witness to the accord between the Senju and Uchiha clans, directly behind and to the right of his brother as his second in command, the feeling returned but it had less arrogance about it. Watching the Uchiha clan head accept the terms and conditions that the Senju had set out, Tobirama had wanted to spit at their feet and laugh in their faces, but instead he watched the shake of hands with a warm feeling in his chest.

That night Tobirama had tossed and turned before falling into a strange sleep, wondering why he had not felt more haughty about the defeat they had clearly subjected the fire-wielders to. It had taken a few more encounters off of the torn and shredded battlegrounds for him to realize that he in fact felt no glory or real sentiment of victory over the Uchiha. Somehow, the insidious feeling of accomplishment had morphed into something more gentle.

His thoughts are temporarily interrupted as he hears the light laugh of Mito chime through the air as the little boy the couple is holding grasps on tightly to one of her buns and pulls; clear mortification on the mothers face and soft adoration on Hashirama’s. It was no longer about subjugating another to his will; it was about joining together and creating bonds.

Tobirama wonders when he became a sentimental old man. He was far too young for this bullshit.

Mito and Hashirama are drawn back to their lunch table as the waiter sets a plethora of noodles, fried foods (which he will somewhat avoid), and local fare made mostly of fish and small fowl, and admits to them enthusiastically that it does indeed smell and look to be most delicious.

As they tuck into their respective plates, Mito swiftly changes the topic from the young couple that she and the hokage had been speaking to, to one that Tobirama is excited to get more information on. He pointedly ignores the absolute mess that his brother is making as he misuses his chopsticks to literally shovel food from the plate into his gaping maw. With his chakra reserves and natural disposition, Hashirama has always been a mountain of a man who eats enough for three. Sometimes Tobirama wonders how Hashirama made it through the months of rationing that coloured their childhood; sacrifice and a tight belt coming to mind.

“If we continue sourcing our materials from the Land of Iron we should remain stable for the next two quarters at the very least in terms of building, and as of right now, we are ahead of schedule and have reserves enough to last us through to the start of the next year.” Tobirama pauses to take another bite of the admittedly delicious lake fish. He continues when it is polite to do so, “When you present next week, I think letting the supplier know that we have half that amount while asking for our regular shipment would not raise any suspicion, and meanwhile we could maintain our agreed upon price point and delivery schedules? Would that not reduce any competition we might face from this Sand village - that we are not asking for more, but graciously accepting what we have already settled on?”

“Marghfl!” Hashirama seems to agree. The waiter who has been watching them as he works seems to be enthused about his hokage’s annihilation of the dishes he serves.

“Husband, manners. Chew, swallow, then speak.” Mito says as an aside as she shifts Hashirama’s large glass of water nearer to his reach.

With a grateful smile, he downs the whole thing, wiping his hand on his white robe sleeves. “I think Tobirama has a point there. With the village coffers doing as well as they are, I think that it would be acceptable for - oh yes please! -” He happily nods as Mito places her mushrooms on his plate. “- for us to have a little bit of give? Would you say so?” The large man resumes his feast.

“Thank you.” Tobirama nods to his elder brother, continuing, “I simply believe that with the village building being months ahead of schedule, it would do us no harm and be of minor consequence if we acquiesced and allowed the suppliers to feel that they gained the upper hand?” Tobirama finishes eating and places his utensils accordingly on the now empty plate, sitting back to sip at his water. When Hashirama complains of a stomach ache and digestive issues later, he will be sitting comfortably.

“Perhaps. But our village is only prospering as much as it is due to the shared war chests being taxed and delivered. Eventually these will run low if we continue to give leeway.” Mito is nothing if not clever, and her actuarial mind nears Tobirama’s but has the additional gift of being able to calculate people as well. “I believe that there is a way for us to have Iron agree to our terms without revealing what we ourselves hold.” She also slides her plate to the side and rests in her seat. “A continued relationship with them in the contract would be a great assurance, and then I believe that we as a team would feel much more secure in presenting ourselves as you suggest, Tobirama.”

He thinks for a moment. The contracts are written and drawn up, and he has been meticulous with the language. Perhaps he will give them a once-over when he gets back to the office, but he is fairly confident that the language and conditions he employed will be more than enough for Mito, Izuna, and Hikaku to work with. The proposals clearly indicate that they are not asking for anything more than they already have, and that Iron should fear no loss in income or clientele when the Sand village begins to form properly. “I will look them over again, Mito, though they are ready.” He smiles, “As a thank you for the delicious meal.”

Tobirama makes sure to face Mito directly, knowing full well the restaurant was chosen, and the cheque taken care of by Hashirama. Mito offers a sly smile back to him over the rim of her glass.

What is the point of being a younger sibling if not to agitate and annoy on the occasion?

Hashirama does not notice. His head is cradled in the crook of his arm on the table as he begins to unbutton his pants and lament his aching belly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is a bit short.


End file.
